


Asleep

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-18
Updated: 2007-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Severus gets a quick glimpse into his future.





	1. a dark room

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author notes: This is the first fanfiction I have ever written, so please be gentle.

 

Severus tilted the vial of silver potion so that the firelight glinted on the gold flecks deep inside it. There was enough of the potion for two doses. As always when he brewed for the Dark Lord, he made enough to test it first. Of a certainty, it would work but he was not the type to take such useless risks. It wouldn’t do to have a potion unexpectedly fail.

It was an unusual potion. As far as Severus was concerned, it was a complete waste of the immense time and effort it took to make it. It allowed the drinker to see ten years into his own future. The Potion Master sighed. As if he truly wanted to see that in ten years he was either dead or still miserably alone, teaching children not to melt their cauldrons and explode toxic chemicals in their faces. He was certain that his future held nothing he wanted to see, nothing that would make him look forward to living another decade of the same unhappy, painful existence he had endured so far.

Severus started to take his test half of the potion when he realized that there was a small, very small, chance that he had company in the future. He walked to his bedroom. No chance he had company in here. It had been a long time since he slept with anyone. As a matter of fact, he had never had any overnight company in his dungeon rooms. On the rare occasions that he had sex, it was never with someone he would share his home with. Not even for one night.

Tucking himself into a dark corner and taking a deep breath, he swallowed the potion and almost instantly felt the tingle of magic and the disorienting swirl of misplaced time. He was still in his rooms. Soft light spilled from his sitting room through the open door. The potion was supposed to bring him to his future self so he turned to look at his bed.

He was asleep. Frowning the Potion Master noticed that his future self looked different. His hair was longer. Definitely cleaner. He snorted. The long, silky, black strands spilled over his pillow and off the edge of the bed. What could make him become…conceited? Concerned about his looks? Less self loathing? Vain enough to grow his hair long enough to interfere with his potions?

He looked closer. His future self actually looked younger than he currently did. Severus’ years as a spy, his years of torture as a follower of Voldemort, the constant strain of his double life had aged him faster than time should have. Ten years in the future, at 46, he would still be in the prime of a wizard’s lifespan. No frown lines marred his sleeping brow and his skin looked more pale and less sickly. He was covered up to his chin, but his face at least, looked less gaunt.

Maybe a life without the Dark Lord agreed with Severus more than he expected. He looked around the room. His eyes widened. The wardrobe was larger. Large enough for two, or one self-obsessed Lockheart. In the corner was a broom stand. It held two sleek brooms. Looking closer he could see Sunchaser emblazoned on the handles. 

His clothes!! His clothes were spilled on the floor, something he had never done in his entire life. He always put them up. He occasionally slept fully dressed but he never just tossed them on the floor. He looked a little closer. The shirt tangled on top of his robes was red. He eyed the scattered clothing. A white shirt was visible in the corner, more to his taste than flaming red. 

Severus looked back at the bed. The sprawled heap of the Potion Master’s sleeping body did look too big. Striding quietly back to the bed he tugged the covers down just a bit, as slowly and cautiously as he could.

The top of a tousled black head of hair was visible, tucked close under Severus’ chin. His breath catching, Severus tugged the bed coverings a bit more exposing the sleeping Severus’ arm, wrapped around a tanned and muscular male shoulder. The arm of his companion was wrapped tightly around his waist and it was now obvious just how closely their entire forms were entwined.

Severus gulped in a shaky breath. He had a lover. A live-in lover. He had a man living in his solitary rooms at Hogwarts where he obviously still taught. But…staff couldn’t share rooms unless…unless they were married. Severus stared at the two men sound asleep on the bed. It took a long time for all the details to seep into his frozen brain.

He could see the left hand of his future self, where it curved around the other man’s shoulder. A glint of silver showed faintly in the dim room. A heavy, plain silver band was wrapped around the third finger of his left hand.

“Fuck,” Severus breathed out in a sign. _I am married._ He couldn’t even fathom a future where he loosened up enough to admit to caring about anyone, let alone marry them.

A sleepy murmur from the bed brought his attention back. He had only another minute or perhaps two before he was yanked back to the past, or his own current time.

He had to know. Who in the world would be sleeping so trustingly, so contentedly with the Potion Master after nearly twenty years as a spy? Who would possibly be willing to marry him after everything that had happened?

He took two, stealthy steps towards the bed. Inhaling as quietly as possible, he leaned over the sleeping men. He couldn’t see the other man’s face. It was buried against the Potion Masters shoulder. All he could see was tanned shoulders, an arm and messy raven hair almost as dark as his own.

He bit back a frustrated growl. He started to reach out before ruthlessly clenching his hand into a fist. Who? And how to find out in less than a minute. Taking another deep breath he reached out and ran a finger across the soft skin of the man’s brow. The man turned into his touch with a sigh.

As he turned his face, the light from the other room flashed briefly on a scar on his forehead barely visible through his hair. A lightning bolt shaped scar. Eyes widening in complete shock, Severus was yanked back through time and into the dim, lonely solitude of his dungeon room, his arm still outstretched to soft hair and silken skin, far, far out of reach.


	2. The Morning After

  
Author's notes: Severus gets a glimpse into the future. Massive plot liberties with book 6, Dh never happened. Not mine:)  


* * *

The clatter of breakfast dishes in the Great Hall swelled through the opened door. Still not over the shock of the previous evening, Severus Snape had to pause to school his features into their normally impassive mask. Feeling a little more in control, he swept into the room and flung himself into his seat without looking at anyone.

His eyes kept drifting towards the Gryffindor table. He stabbed viciously at his untouched food and pulled his attention back to the staff table. He snarled in frustration. It was no use. He really had to look at Potter and see. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe he was dreaming…no…hallucinating last evening.

Dredging up memories of Longbottom’s last great disaster in class, Severus managed to paste a fairly impressive sneer on his face. Feeling as well-masked as possible, he looked over to the Gryffindors. Weasley’s red hair and Granger’s wild mane made Potter easy to spot in the middle of the two.

Keeping his sneer firmly in place, he glanced at the young man. The dark, not quite black hair. When did his shoulders get so broad? Since it was Saturday, Potter wore muggle clothes under his school robes. The tight shirt easily showed off the Quidditch toned muscles.

Severus groaned out loud before grinding his teeth tight enough to give himself a headache. It was him, older but definitely him. Potter. Sweet Merlin. _How could I ever end up married to Potter?_

A hand touched his arm and pulled his attention back to the staff table.

“Are you alright, Severus?” Minerva inquired.

“Fine,” he snarled, jabbing his food again.

“Severus, my boy,” Dumbledore stated quietly, with a small smile on his lips, “I would like to see you in my office after you finish mauling your breakfast, please.”

Stifling the urge to roll his eyes, Professor Snape nodded and stood up. “Of course, Headmaster.” Nodding curtly to McGonagall, he strode from the room, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to look back at Harry, one more time. _Potter._ He clenched his teeth even tighter.

 

In the Headmaster’s office, Severus sat and scowled at the far wall.

“Did you try the potion last night, Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

The Potion Master nodded his head without answering. His fist curled tightly around a steaming cup of tea. 

“Would you be willing to share what you saw that has upset you?”

Severus ruthlessly shook his head. _No!! I most certainly do NOT want to share!_ He fumed silently, feeling on the verge of a tantrum. The desire to stomp his feet and storm out of the room without telling Albus a word was growing nearly unbearable. 

“Severus,” Albus said gently, “were you alright?”

“I was fine,” he ground out. “I just…” He trailed off, uncertain how to continue.

“I think you should tell me what was so terrible,”

Severus cut him off. “Not what. Who!” He continued to glare at the wall.

“Who?” Dumbledore started to smile. “Excellent.”

“It most certainly is not excellent,” he growled, still not looking at Albus.

“On the contrary. I think there should definitely be a “who” in your future regardless of the person’s identity. Were you happy, in the future?” 

“I was sleeping.” Severus couldn’t stop the flush that stole into his cheeks.

“Ah.” This was marvelous. Asleep and not alone. The Headmaster smiled fully at his favorite ex-student. “You deserve to be happy. You have paid your personal penance for nearly 17 years. It will all work out. Now, how do we stop Voldemort from using this potion to his advantage?”

The two men sat in silence for a while before Dumbledore asked, “Did you get any idea, from your trip, whether Tom will be angry or not after trying the potion?”

The Potion Master thought of the brief scene he had witnessed. “Potter’s scar...” Too late, he shut his mouth and scowled at the Headmaster.

His eyes truly sparkling now, Albus said, “What about Harry’s scar, Severus?”

Severus could hear the laughter in the voice of his mentor. Tempted to cut his losses and go, he held himself rigidly in his chair and answered, “His scar looked silver. It looked older, more healed, than it currently appears.”

“Wonderful. Let’s think on this for a day or two. Perhaps we need to ask some others for their suggestions.” Dumbledore seemed to be having an internal conversation for a moment before he smiled at turned back to the Potions Master. “And Severus…You and Harry have a great deal in common. I think it would work out perfectly.”

“A great deal in common?” he scoffed. “Such as an immense desire to strangle each other?” he asked sarcastically, barely resisting the urge to kick the Headmaster’s desk or throw his teacup across the room.

“You both had difficult childhoods. You both have an interest in and an aptitude for Defense Against the Dark Arts. You both have fierce tempers and similar temperaments.”

Severus was outraged. _A similar temperament to Potter? The rule breaking, do what ever he wants no matter who it affects, arrogant brat? No way._

“Much as I adore discussing the non-existent commonalities between myself and Mr. Potter, I am certain I have something else to do.” Snape rose from his chair with his lips curved in disgust.

“Of course, Severus,” Dumbledore waved him out of the room with a smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder.

 

~Potions Class~

Potions Class

Harry stirred his cauldron roughly as he eyed the Potions Master stalking through the room and sneering at the results of each of the Gryffindors and, less loudly, most of the Slytherins potions as well. Every time he whipped around his cloak snapped angrily around his ankles. So far he had not looked into Harry’s cauldron one time.

Normally, Harry was a favorite target. Something was wrong today. There had not been one piercing glare, one condescending remark, not so much as a barked “Potter!” when he had spilled his moonflower roots onto the floor.

Something was wrong. Harry’s mind raced through the possible causes of Snape ignoring him. It couldn’t be good. Snape usually belittled his abilities at every turn. Maybe Voldemort had a new plan involving Harry. Maybe he was hiding some important information that Harry had no hope of fighting. Maybe he was planning to…

It was no use. Harry glared at the professor’s black clad shoulders. He was up to something. Each turn around the room, in which Harry was completely ignored, he got angrier. This was so stupid. How could they all expect him to defeat Voldemort if they kept him in the dark all the time? He was seventeen years old and a seventh year at Hogwarts. He was legally an adult now. Just last month he had found and destroyed the last Horcrux, yeah with help, but still. They should tell him what was going on. He was completely sick of being treated like a child.

By the end of Potions, Harry had worked himself up into a temper. His friends and the class and Draco’s provocations all faded into the background. His world narrowed down to Snape’s prowling form and the information Harry knew he was withholding. It was just like several years before, when Dumbledore refused to look at him. Well, this time he wasn’t going to stand for it.

At the end of class, Harry held back, packing his things away with rough, angry movements. Ron and Hermione lingered, obviously waiting for him.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron tried to hurry him along. “It’s time for lunch and I’m starving.”

Lowering his voice, he answered, “Go on. I need to talk to…” He tilted his head towards their Professor.

Hermione gave him a look. Apparently, she could see the anger radiating off of Harry and see the tension in his movements and the way he held himself so stiffly. 

“Harry are…”

“I am fine. I just need to ask him something. I’ll be at lunch in just a few minutes. Okay?”

Reluctantly, the two Gryffindors walked out of the Potions lab, casting one last look at Harry as the door shut behind them. The moment the door was shut Harry dropped his book bag and stormed to the front of the room.

“What happened?” he asked belligerently.

Without looking up from the scrolls in front of him, Snape answered, “I have neither the ability nor desire to know what you are referring to. Go.”

“I have a right to know. If this is…”

“You have no right,” Snape interrupted with a snarl, finally looking up at him, his eyes cold and narrowed in anger. “It is not your place to demand anything of me.”

“Fine,” Harry snapped. “Please,” he exaggerated the word, “tell me why you are avoiding me and what is has to do with Voldemort.”

If anything, Snape looked even angrier. “The world does not revolve around you, Mr. Potter. I am busy.”

“I am sick of being kept in the dark. I know you are hiding something. Tell me what is going on!” Harry’s voice was raising and he stepped clear up to Snape’s desk, feeling the edge bite into his thighs.

“It is none of your business, Potter,” Snape yelled, shoving himself upright with his palms on his desk. 

The typical swirl of emotion and charged magic, barely leashed between them, caused the air to spark with tension. Then it shifted. Snape’s dark, intense gaze flared with an emotion that Harry only recognized as _not_ anger. He felt his body heat up and his stomach fluttered with the excess of emotion and power in the room as their gazes locked together. 

“Tell me,” Harry’s voice, meant to be an angry outburst, came out at almost a whisper.

Snape whirled around, yanking his eyes away to focus on the wall behind his desk. His deep voice sounded unnaturally even and smooth, like intense emotions buried too deep.

“I had to test a potion last night,” he paused. For a brief moment weariness and exhaustion showed on his face and then Harry could almost see him wrapping invisible shields around himself as he resumed his usual too rigid posture, with his arms crossed over his chest. “I believe it is still affecting me. I will endeavor to treat you with proper disdain tomorrow.”

“Is it…” Harry tried to ask.

“It is not about you!” Snape roared. “Get out of this room!”

Still uncertain as to what exactly had happened, Harry scooped up his books and fled the room.


End file.
